A New Galaxy
by cmort
Summary: Empires will be forged, war will be fought. Now and forever peace will hang in the balance. Through the bloodshed and the tyranny a New Galaxy will emerge.
1. Emerge from the blood

A New Galaxy

My Soldiers, I stand before you weakened and distraught. For years now, across the galaxy brave men and women were fighting for the ideals of their glittering Republic. A Republic that is sickeningly loyal, repulsively patriotic and formidably blind to the universe around it. A Republic that sits atop the ruins of the greatest civilisation the galaxy has ever known. They stand on the ruins of the Sith Empire, a once powerful and immense conglomeration. That now sadly lies dormant and decayed, a prospect that for these past years has caused me great anguish and pain. I have tried many times to reinstate the power of the Sith. But for all my effort, all I have is a brainless army and a pathetic group of aliens that slobber at my feet, begging to be elevated to something greater than anything their puny minds could comprehend, that their scaly hands could ever grasp. Unlimited power is what they clamber and bray for, like the sickening cattle that they are. So I have decided that they shall get what they want. I will give them unlimited power. All the power they could ever want awaits them in the afterlife. You look confused; perhaps the message was not clear. Run now, or be gunned down where you fester.

Gunfire and screams twist through the cavernous atrium of the new senate, a fitting beginning for the bloodshed that is to follow.

From your corpses, like the Republic before me, I shall create a new Empire, one that will sit atop the bodies of my enemies and strike fear into any that would dare oppose it. I will create a new galaxy free of the Republic and the alien hordes. I will create a **New Sith Empire**.

Across the galaxy brave men and women fight for the freedom of this Republic. They fight for the ideals that this Government stands for. For the freedom to have freedom, to resist the oppression of the Separatists, and the tyrannical rule of its new leader: Darth Sideous. Remember, my friends that only a few weeks ago we were on the verge of victory. General Grievous was almost captured and the real leader of the Sith unveiled and dethroned. But, in our haste to destroy our enemy, we left ourselves vulnerable as well. Across the stars they sent a fleet of unimaginable size and strength. And with it they laid our homes to siege. They destroyed our victory, they destroyed our work, our lives and the peace that we had fooled ourselves into believing was ours for the taking. We were beaten in our moment of triumph. And in restoring order, we lost masses of our army, and with them we also lost our will to fight. We could do nothing but lay back and watch, as the world's we had built around us crumbled in the heat of the fighting. We were destitute, beaten and without hope. But today my people, help have come. From an old enemy we forge a new ally. The Turians, a people that once spread across the galaxy, until a war that dwarfs this one raged. In our Xenophobia and our paranoia, we attacked a species that we did not understand, and feared the strength of. In those few short years we lost billions. But the Turians lost more. For thousands of years they would be hunted like animals. Persecuted on planets that were once their own, and hounded throughout the galaxy as a race of warmongering beasts. Though it's true that in the years since they have reclaimed much of their old territory, most through a war in which we could never win. They have offered a formal alliance, and have promised to incorporate the cloning technology that was used to defeat us, into our own factories. With the expedient production of new troops, and the founding of a new ally, we can be assured that victory has not slipped our grasp yet. Be hopeful, my people. For today is the start of a** New Republic.** A Republic that will stand against evil and tyranny for as long as it shall exist!

Okay, writing that was awsome :D I hope you like it as much as I do, and I hope you keep reading it forever and ever. But if you think it needs improving, obvioulsy I'm biased, so I can't see my own problems, then please leave a review too tell me what you think needs improving. By the way, if you are wondering about the M rating, well it's going to get pretty dark. I'm talking blood and guts and maybe the occasional heartbreak (with a vice obviously) so yeah. Thanks for reading. :)


	2. Drawing the lines

"Please, please quiet down! This is a place of neutrality not of persecution!"

"Monsters!"

"Murderers!"

"You're people seem angry, don't they Jarvas?"

"Not angry I assure you. They're just…nervous."

"The two often follow each other, it seems."

"Ha, here in the senate I often find the ones who shout loudest are the ones with nothing to say." Garrus smirked at Jarvas, a slight man with a shaved head and right now, a very nervous demeanour. "So often I see that in the Ascendancy as well."

"It must be the altitude," Jarvas said, his hands making small worried motions to his guards to prepare for danger. "They often think they are above the troubles of those below them." Garrus nodded. "I think it's time we brought them down to earth." Reaching behind him, he pulled out a small, concealed blaster and pointed it at Jarvas. The guards, completely taken by surprise at the act, were easily disabled by Garrus's protection. "If any of you makes one more sound, he dies!" The members of the senate choked on their own surprise. Around the room they sat, watching the Turian as he held the future of the Republic at his mercy. "We arrived today in the hopes of forgetting the past. But it seems the Republic is set in its ways. Your arrogance and paranoia is the same as it was five hundred years ago when you hunted down my ancestors for the crimes you perceived they had done. You do not seem to understand how this offer of peace has only two sides. You can either accept our offer of alliance, in which case you will be forgiven for what you did to us. Or you can refuse it, and we will count the blood contract unfulfilled, and you will be annihilated. Choose carefully men of the Republic, because this offer is none negotiable, and it's better than you deserve." As he spoke, his blaster never wavering, he scanned the rows of the men who would soon choose the fate of his own race as much as theirs. "Do you have a reply? Or are you just as stubborn as you were when you refused our surrender?" He spat. Moment's grinded past in agony, as the members remained silent. Jarvas, whose own eyes had never left the blaster, said: "It won't work like this, Garrus. If you take us by force, how would it be any different than before?"

"Because this time they choose. Do they want force? Or will they try peace? This time they will have no one to blame but themselves." Jarvas finally looked around at the senators; it was not hard to see where their minds were leading. "Can I speak to them?"

"Do what you wish, they're your people."

"What about the weapon?"

"It's not loaded." Jarvas's eyes opened wide, as did his mouth.

"You came here to hold the senate hostage with an unloaded gun?" he whispered, spit flying from between his now clenched teeth. "The ones behind me are loaded," Garrus said, indicating with a tip of his head the guards, who had taken up position around the booth, covering the attack angles. "Why?"

"Politicians have always liked a message they can understand, so I give them the plainest one of all. Do what is right, or prepare to die. Now I think they have understood the message. It's your turn to hold the senate's attention, Chancellor."

"Then please stand aside whilst I address my people." Garrus slid the weapon back into its holster, at the same time he turned and bowed his head down to Jarvas's ear. After a moment, he stood up straight and moved behind him to stand between his guards. Pondering the Turian's advice, Jarvas walked to the front of the hovering platform and stood in the glare of the senators, who were now warily looking around for some trick or possibly an attack. "Senators I implore you to listen to me now." At the sound of his voice, which now carried no trace of the fear he had felt before, the movement stopped and all at once the focus was his to command. "We have arrived at a difficult junction in the future of our Republic. Our once powerful city now lies in smouldering wreckage that will take years to rebuild. Your people are frightened, for they have found themselves in a future where the evil escape and the good are destroyed. This is a future that is now more clouded in danger than ever before. But in those clouds we still find support. This man here," he waves his hand towards Garrus, who is silently watching the masses of people as they are led through the hoops, "has said he can promise us peace. A rare offer. For in this galaxy, whatever peace we have found has always been shattered by the greed of others. That is why I propose that we set aside our greed. The greed that hungers to sate its bloodlust, despite the danger such an action would put on our people, who we are supposed to shield and protect. If we can do that, perhaps we can save our future from the dangers that will be set upon us if we act rashly." The amassed senators, who were once so complacent, are now leaning forward in their chairs, straining to catch every word and every movement of the man, as he leads them out of the shell of apathy they had maintained for so long. Garrus has ceased sweeping the crowd with his eyes and has locked them squarely on the back of Jarvas's head. "Now is the time for altruism, now is the time for friendship, now is the time to forgive and forget. Bring together the military might of the Turians and combine it with our own, and the future will be secured. Do what is right and you will have saved us all." No applause followed after the speech, no sounds were made. The members sat there, cold complexions on all their faces as they stared at Jarvas. "It was a good speech, Jarvas," Garrus said, "But I think the people will need just a little bit more." He strode past the guards and gently pushed Jarvas down into a seat, where he collapsed, with sweat beading on every crevice of his face. "Listen to me Republic. I have no more threats that I want to make on your government or its leader. Now I only wish to leave and wait for your response. I hope that you will choose to accept our friendship. And if not…I'm sorry for what both sides will be forced to do." Jarvas wrenched himself out of the chair and threw himself at Garrus. "Give them something more! Something they can use! Don't let our worlds end like this!"

Garrus was surprised, "There is nothing more to say. Either you accept or we die."

Jarvas slid off Garrus and again collapsed into his seat. With closed eyes and a grim face he said: "Then I think the next time we see each other will be at the end of a barrel."

As his mind slipped into sleep, and his strength drained from his body, he heard only one last thing before the senators shouting drowned out his consciousness. "Only this time," Garrus sighed, "it will be loaded." With that he slipped out of the present and shivered as he saw the future.

I hope you enjoy this chapter of what is, I hope, going to be a long and successful story. As always, I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it. And please leave a review if you can.


	3. Rising from the corpses

Rising from the corpses.

"Tell me again, and this time be clearer." White arcs of lightning surge across the room and impale a limp, ragged body. Its screams have become only pitiful gurgles as its lungs fill up with blood. "Why does the Ascendancy wish to ally itself with the Republic?" The creature rolls its head in sickening circles, trying desperately to see through its one good eye. "They just want peace." It manages to gurgle. "They just want peace."

"Peace has never been part of the Ascendancy's plans," He spat. "Tell me what they really want!" Another shard ripped into the sodden flesh of the creature, whose body was now just a mess of blisters and blood. "This room will become your tomb if you answer me. I can promise that you will die if you tell me the truth." He moved closer to the hanging figure, who tried to recoil against the wall. "I might even make it quick," he whispered.

"Do what you want," he drooled, "I cannot tell you what I do not know." The cloaked figure moved in quicker, sliding up to the side of the creature. "Then," he whispered, "You must have nothing left to say." He reached into his robe and pulled out what looked like a long metal rod. Taking a step back, he ignited the lightsaber and thrust it into the gaping hole, which sinews and bone were all that remained of a mouth. "Now, perhaps you will finally be useful," he said, deactivating the weapon and walking around some 'Spillage' "Take this filth, and throw it into the incinerator."

"Yes my lord. I'll have the droids do it immediately." A white square appeared at the side of the room. "We're here for clean up." The small droids intoned.

"Remove this filth from my prison. Take the overs down to the incinerator as well. They would know no more than him."

"Yes my lord."

"Assemble my Generals in the senate. I will be arriving there shortly."

"Roger, roger."

"It's time to discuss the future."

Coruscant

"We need to discuss the future, Chancellor. What do you propose to do when the Turians attack?"

"I propose to be on the other side of a peace treaty when that happens! We cannot wage another war! We are already losing this one!" Jarvas replied. "If we go to war with the Turians, we will lose. They have an entire populace devoted to the military. That includes all of the technologies required to destroy us and anything else!"

"Can't we just attack first? Catch them by surprise." Jarvas could not believe the madness he was hearing. His hands were clenched on the desk cusp, desperately working at the metal, as if some sense could be wrought from it. "If we attacked first, that would leave us open to Separatist attack. An attack which they are almost certainly planning! An attack that would leave our corpses ripe for the Turians to burn, at least what would be left after the Separatists are done."

"There is no other option?"

"No. You must accept their offer."

"But they killed billions of us." Jarvas pushed himself into a standing position, startling the others.

"And we killed billions of them! The only difference is that we survived to record it! Now you must decide. Do we go to war? Or will we make peace?" He stood defiant against them, staring at each one of them before he finally sat down. He lowered his head on to the table, as the room descended into shouting.

The Ascendancy.

"Garrus, do you think they will agree?"

"I don't think it matters anymore."

"How so?"

"Their memories are old and corrupt. In their eyes, we will always be the same murderous swarm that tried to take their homes."

"Perhaps the Jedi could be manipulated into agreeing?"

"No. In older times they would have been susceptible, but know they are weary of any attempts at control. Not even our greatest could bend them to their will."

"You speak as if you admire them."

"There is a lot to admire."

"Perhaps from where you are there is." Garrus turned around to face his leader.

"Say that again, and I swear that throne will be small comfort after I'm finished with you." He said, his eyes glinting against the purple light. "Don't forget who it was that put you on it," he hissed, "You would be no more than a streak of piss in a stream if I hadn't made you more." As he spoke he had taken several steps towards the recumbent creature, who sat on a large chair on top a dias. The chair had several metal spikes sticking out of its crown, they were supposed to represent the knowledge that the Turians took with them on their journeys, but their sharp edges spoke a different language to Garrus, one of blood and war. "So do not presume that I am some animal that can be whipped into a lackey. I'm the power of the Turians and their saviour. If I hadn't stolen the cloning technology, and the ability for us to breed with our clone brethren, you would still be a zygote, swimming around in some greater being's ballsack."

"And you would be dead." Garrus stopped in midstride. The dark figure on the throne leaned forward and stared into Garrus's eyes. "You would be dead, and all of our people would never be able to see how far our race has fallen. We beg for the scraps of Apes! At your whim! Scraps that by our birth right should belong to us! So go and convene with these disorderly Apes. See if they will accept our friendship, it does not matter. One way or another, we will be getting our worlds back." Garrus gritted his teeth, willing the fangs that had risen in his mouth to return to their sheaths. "You are the leader chosen by the people; I must do as you say."

"Then get out of my sight, and go play with our new pets."

"As you wish," he said. With his head low and his claws bared, Garrus slid out of the chamber room, eager to be as far away from that rat as possible.

Secret Empire base on Delkar.

"My lord, the information we have been able to extract from our prisoners has been…Inconclusive. According to them, the Turians seek to make a formal peace treaty with the Republic. But our own sources say that it is a ruse designed to lure the Republic officials into a place where they can be captured and held to ransom. Trusting either source is, of course, unwise. But placing our bets on one of them could prove to be beneficial to the Empire. That is why I'm suggesting that we launch a tactical strike on the Turian peace escort, neutralize their weapons, board the ship and when the Republic turns up, destroy them with the captured ship, killing both parties in the process." Gently rapping his knuckles on the table, he looks up the long table to try and lock eyes with the cloaked figure, whose face lies in the recesses of its hood. "An intriguing plan," says a low whisper from the darkness of the hood, "How soon can you be ready?"

"I would require one capital ship and several…me? But I meant the army." The folds in the hood suddenly melt into the rest of the cloth as the figure leans forward. "Such an excellent plan will need a great leader at its helm. I give you my blessing, Admiral." The last words slither from the cold, pallid lips, which have now curved up into a sallow smile. "Collect all the resources you need. I will eagerly await news of your return." Dejected, Numan flicks his eyes around the table, looking for some help from the silent other Admirals. When his eyes finally return to the figure, his hands have slid from the table, leaving long, wet marks. And in those eyes he finds no pity or remorse, he sees only a mind as pitch black as the assassin droids that surround the figure, both are deadly and both a focused on him. For one last moment he attempts suicide. "Are you sure, my lord?" The assorted Admirals stare at the table, unwilling to show any interest in what happens next, their lives will depend on it. The cruel smile once again infects the world with its presence. "Yes."

"It's as my lord wishes, then. I will take a ship and several commando droids. I will not fail you, my lord."

"Put it from your mind, Admiral. Failure is not even an option."

Inside the Ascendancy base.

In a small room of the Ascendancy base, a tiny blue figure, covered by a cloak and hood, shimmers in the air. The room is dark, save for the shadow of the person sitting by the hologram. And the walls are bare. Closer to the small blue figure a voice can be heard. "We have hidden as you instructed. And have managed to avoid all the major guard patrol routes. Now it is just a matter of time before we are ready to strike the Ascendancy." The figure, the one who watches the hologram, leans in close and says: "When we attack, we must be quick and we must hit hard. There can be no room for error in this. Do you understand?" The small figure nods, the hologram perfectly recreating his every movement. "We are ready to do what we must to ensure our survival. Our weapons and equipment are stowed and the plan is ready. My only concern is: will you be able to destroy the Ascendancy when the time comes, Garrus?" Garrus nodded, his lips pulled back to show his fangs. "When the time comes, I will destroy it all."

"Then good luck. Prepare yourselves oppressors—"

"For a new dawn is arriving," Garrus finished.


	4. Reaching an accord

Reaching an accord

"Chancellor, would it even be possible for the two civilisations to co-exist? They place themselves above all else and their entire culture is based on warfare! Surely there is no room is this Republic for a species that lives like that." A long sigh pulled itself from Jarvas. He had been staring at the ceiling for hours, hearing the same argument going round the table, again and again. "What would you suggest instead?"

"A strike of course," declared the Neimoidian senator, to several nods from around the table. "We attack quickly and without mercy. Blow the Turians back to whatever hole they have hid in for all these years."

"Has becoming a senator made your brain escape your skull?" Jarvas said, pointing his furious gaze at the senator. "They are a fully-fledged army, with enough resources to blow us apart and start their own damn Republic. Are you saying you want that to happen?" Now all eyes were on him, some angry, some curious. But one pair of eyes was murderous. "You are mistaken, Chancellor," he said, every word flaring with the bitter edges of anger. "I would never see this Republic fall by Turian hands! I would sooner die!" That's good, Jarvas thought to himself, but you made no mention of it falling to Separatist hands, did you? You slimy piece of traitorous shit! You don't care if we fall to your friends. You will not make me watch our new Republic descend into the horrors of the past. Especially not so you and your Separatist allies can pick our bones when it's over. No, I will not let you or anyone else manipulate us again! Jarvas shoulders had begun to shake, and his hands gripped the table so tight that he could feel every scar and dent in its ancient wooden surface, all testaments to the hard decisions that people like him had been making for thousands of years; people who would be remembered long after the Republic had died, whose footsteps he had trodden in every day as he marvelled at what they had achieved. Now he had to show them that he was worthy of continuing their memory.

Several of the senators had begun whispering amongst each other, whispering and glancing between the Neimoidian and the Chancellor. The Neimoidian, a representative for Cato Neimoidia called Pugill, was also looking slightly concerned. He had noticed the twitches, and the way the heavy hands of the Chancellor dug into the wood frightened him a little. The way they worked tirelessly at the wood reminded him of a beetle digging up a grub. But the hands dug no more. They had come to rest in a peaceful clasp in front of the Chancellor, who was, Pugill noted, no longer eyeing him with disgust. It was a strange thing to notice, but Pugill was still trying to shake off the image of the grub squealing in its hollow as it was plucked from safety by the ravenous beetle. A strange idea, he thought, shivering in his clothes. The way it twists and squeals as it is wrenched from its home, every piece of it screaming without a mouth to shout, as it's pulled through the freezing air, only to become blissfully warm as its innards spill out of it. I wonder what it tastes like.

"What, what tastes like, Pugill?"

"It does not matter," he mumbled, "Merely a thought." Pugill looked up the table, not seeing the small scratches on his hand. "What do you have to say, Chancellor?"

"I see no reason to say anything else, Pugill." Jarvas stood up, signalling to the others to do so as well. The Neimodian, who had also begun to stand, was suddenly nervous; his eyes darted around the table, finally resting on the Chancellor, who did not seem to see him at all. "I was not aware the meeting was over," he said, "Perhaps we should continue?" The senator began to sit down, as did some of the others, though they shared a lot of confused looks between them.

"Well I see no reason to continue when we are in agreement." Pugill heard the words, but they did not register in him. All at once he was feeling a lot like the grub.

"What do you mean? We haven't agreed anything." He said, anger once again tracing searing outlines around his words only this time they were being dulled with fear. Jarvas did not notice the angry tones of the senator; instead he smiled kindly at him, though no kindness emerged from his eyes, they were as hungry and as empty as a black hole. "Well you just said that you would never let the Republic fall to Turian hands," he said, lovingly toying with every word. "And as I said: if we don't accept the treaty, then they will send in their armies to destroy us." Pugill could not see a connection. The confusion must have shown on his face, but Jarvas ignored it and pressed on. "I estimate we will be able to hold them off for a week before they break through our defences and begin attacking Coruscant. And by that time, Pugill, I fear that our 'fall' would be all but a certainty." If Pugill had been angry before it was nothing compared to how he felt now. "You're saying," he said, picking his words carefully before laying them down, "that if I'm to stop the Republic from falling to the Turians. Then I must agree to accept the treaty?" Pugill said, sweat running down his back and his hands trembling. "It's not like we have a choice is it?" Jarvas said, smiling down at Pugill, "if we don't accept, then the Turians will destroy us and the Separatists will win. And we can't let the Separatists win, can we?" Jarvas was still smiling as he watched the squirming senator. If he goes for his blaster, he thought, this will be so much easier. But Pugill did not reach for his blaster. He stood up, heaving himself off the chair, and bowed to the Chancellor. "It seems that we have no choice but to accept the treaty." Pugill pushed himself away from the table and strode out the door, followed by his entourage of sycophants, who would tell him tonight, as he squirmed around inside them, that he had made history today. But all the concubines in the universe could not dislodge the image of the grub popping inside the beetles mouth.


	5. Memories and punishment

Memories and punishment

"You have failed me, Pugill. Now die." Pugill moaned from his bleeding mouth as his head was pulled back and strapped down; somewhere behind him he could hear a low buzzing. "Wait, my lord," he sputtered. "I'm still useful. I can still help!" The hologram flickered a few times and dimmed occasionally. But the man did not move. It didn't even seem to breathe. "No. Death will be the only order you complete in my employ." The hologram faded away, leaving Pugill staring at the wall. Slack mouthed, beaten and covered in blood, Pugill gazed blankly as the first piston drove through his back, breaking through his intestines with a loud pop. The second brought him to a tight, agonising focus. Thrusting out of his chest and spraying a fine mist of blood. Squirming and retching as his bones collected in bloody chunks on his lap. The third took him out of his mind, as it burst through his forehead.

"He will be hard to replace," Ventress said, stepping around the chair. She flicked her hand and the clips on his hands sprung open. Then she retracted the spikes with another gesture, letting Pugill slide onto the ground. "Was it wise to kill him, master?"

"He was not important in the grand scheme of things. We have more than one spy in the senate."

"Yes master. But the risks go up with every one killed."

"Then they will truly show their worth as spies."

"Yes master."

The ship yards of Coruscant had always impressed Jarvas. Just seeing the engine thrum to life on an Acclamator warship, or seeing the turbolasers on a fearsome dominator ship, their generators could supercharge them to almost five times their normal output. A trip here always left him in awe. It made him proud. And today that pride had a hint of smugness. They would be unveiling a new type of warship to lead as the flagship for the peace envoy. Jarvas frowned and tapped his finger on the railing. It was a precaution that had become all too necessary, thanks to the pirate raids on undermanned routes. Jarvas scowled and balled his hand into a tight fist, his other gripped tighter on the rail, making several veins appear on the back of his hand. He had no doubts that the pirates were being sponsored to attack Republic caravans, nor that their sponsor was giving them the data to ambush them so well. "Bloody Separatists," he growled, grinding his fist into the rail.

"I think you mean Empire, Chancellor." Jarvas did not turn around to face the stranger. He only nodded to himself as the figure appeared at his side. They were wearing the customary robes of a Jedi and, Jarvas noted with a quick glance, the customary weapon as well. "I don't care what they're called," he grunted, pushing away from the rail. "They've called themselves by so many names before. All that matters is that they're still the Sith."

"They are persistent, Chancellor. And they are very good at hiding."

"Yes. So I understood from the Jedi's briefings…" Though he could not see his face, Jarvas could tell that the man was uncomfortable. "We had to make sure," the man said as he bowed his head, refusing to turn and look at Jarvas. "We had to be certain that you were not just another of the Siths' plans."

"So it was fine to break my mind open like an egg and root around for signs of treachery_?_" Jarvas demanded. He was furious. He could feel his head aching and his eyes drooping. And, not for the first time in the week, he felt like someone had scooped out his brain thrashed it against a wall and then put it in backwards. "We would never have done it if we had not thought it absolutely necessary, Jarvas." The Jedi also seemed like he had gone through some trials of his own. His robe bared the dark lines of where a blaster bolt had come to close. There were also thin tattered patches on his back. Jarvas imagined every one hid a bruise underneath. The Jedi eventually lifted his head up. He turned around to face Jarvas, keeping his face hidden in the robe. He seemed to have become even more uncomfortable. He shifted his weight from foot to foot and never seemed to stay still. And when he spoke he still would not stop swaying. "I am sorry." Jarvas blinked and his faced creased slightly. He was not expecting an apology. "I would have done the same thing," he said, tasting the bitter lie slide down his throat. "Security in these times is all important." Jarvas walked over to the Jedi and clasped his hand in his. But the Jedi pulled away. Jarvas felt confused. He was sure that the Jedi would be seeking his forgiveness. And maybe he was, Jarvas thought. But he seems to be waiting. He looks like he wants it for something else, something bigger. Jarvas felt the cold fingers of fear curl around his guts and squeeze hard. His voice stuttered a little when he spoke. "Obi-wan," he said. "Why are you here?" Obi-wan had turned back to face the docks and again Jarvas's eyes trailed across the burns and cuts that covered his shoulders and back. And in his mind's eye he saw the hologram again. It had been sent to the senate only a day earlier in an unmarked memory unit. It had seemed so unthreatening at the start. But when he saw it in the senate, and the Emperors face appeared before them, he had felt the same cold dread fill him from his toes. It had clung to him like a parasite feeding on his ability to feel or think. And when the image changed from the Emperors face to Pugills Jarvas could just feel the dread flood the room. Some of the senators left the room right then. They had all survived years of war, they had seen its mad depravities, and they knew what happened next. The senate had watched as Pugill was beaten around his head with fists and bars of metal. They could not help it. Every hit, every crack of the bat was so sharp and painful to hear that no member of the senate could look away. Pity, deep hopeless pity, kept them from looking away. When the knife came out a few of the senators even began to cry, Jarvas remembered. The sympathy for a creature that would have sold them all to hell was still sympathy, and it still hurt. Jarvas even remembered when the knife went into his eye. It had been a deep thrust and it cut through the sides of the eye socket. When it pulled out, Pugill had screamed. His mouth had dropped beyond the support of bones and had just hung loosely flapping left and right with every wretched shake of his head. In his mind Jarvas seemed to remember being sick at one point. He definitely remembered others being sick. Then a voice boomed across the room. And he had appeared. "You have failed me, Pugill. Now die." It was like the room had been electrified. They started shouting, demanding that it was shut off. Jarvas had not heard them though. He watched open mouthed as the spikes broke through Pugill's body and sprayed the blood across the senate. And then he was sick. He had curled up and wretched until the foulness emptied itself across the platform. He had gagged and spluttered whilst one of the soldiers grabbed him and hauled him onto his feet. They had said something about a doctor and rest. But the rest had been noise. And then the hologram cut out, plunging him into darkness.

Jarvas blinked, he was back to the present. Only now he really felt like throwing up.

"Why are you here, Obi-wan?" Jarvas said, swallowing the foul bile that had risen in his throat. "What do the Jedi need of me?" Obi-wans face was grave and he looked very tired. Jarvas wondered if he wasn't the only one awake at night, pondering the various problems that the Republic faced every day. In the background one of the ships began their engines warm-up cycle. Obi-wan, grey faced and very tired, finally spoke. "Security is very important Jarvas," he paused. "That is why the Jedi will be leaving the Republic. I'm-" The engines of the ship roared to life, painting the skyline in a hazy fog and drowning out the last words. But it did not drown out the roar in Jarvas's head. Which disappeared into the chasms of insanity.


	6. World of lights

World of Lights

In the pale dawn light, just as the sun begins to peek over the clouds, the towers of Coruscant's huge city glows a dull silver as the world seems to wake with the sun. The hazy clouds roll listlessly over the towers. They are a pale white cut against a washed out blue sky that is just beginning to lose its stars. Coruscant still sleeps.

The last of the stars fades away as the sun climbs over the horizon. The clouds are now bright white pastels drawn across the sky. Somewhere down below an engine starts. The first of the people are beginning to move.

Dawn moves fast on Coruscant. Millions of speeders flitter in and out of sight as they pass the skyscrapers that dominate the skyline. They are the dark sentinels of Coruscant, immobile and imposing. Here and there though there are patches of damage, and even a few spots where a tower has collapsed into the undergrowth. One has even brought another down on top of it. Around the base of the towers LAAT gunships ferry people and debris out of the towers and clone home guards fight through the smoke to search for more survivors. It is worse in some places. Clones had been sent out to repel a Separatist land attack on a gun battery near the Jedi temple. They managed to push back the initial attack and defeat the droids on the ground, securing the Jedi temples safety for the moment. Their cheering had lasted right until they saw the droid bombers flying out of the clouds. They had started as small black specks on the pale white. But closer they had started to fill wit detail. By the time they had realised what was heading their way it was too late to hide.

They carpet bombed the entire area. Blasting apart the clone lines and shattering their victory. A fresh wave of droids charged the broken clones, gunning them down as they felt around blindly for their weapons. One of the clones had prised a rifle from the hand of another soldier, leaving the arm to flop down dead next to the body. But even as he had turned to fire he had no chance. The extermination was over in seconds. In the end the fuel cells on the battery exploded from the intense heat, rending the weapon apart and vaporising what was left of the clone garrison. The fire was mostly put out when the battery exploded. But there are parts of the area that are still burning. In a few of the bomb pits there are twisted pieces of armour scattered around. Some still have a flag of blackened flesh in them. Which wave to a harrowing moment of desperation in history as they flap sadly in the breeze.

It has been two weeks since the Separatist attack. Coruscant is still picking up the pieces.

Night brings a chill within its dark folds. Frost has begun to spread through the lower reaches of Coruscant. And the metalworks can be seen by the faint orange glow to the west. They're surrounded by black and topped with a column of orange tinted steam. The night creeps along the alleyways. Pitch black and silent, it wanders its grasping fingers over an alien sleeping in the alley. The fingers close around him. Thin tendrils of mist coil over his body. He clenches his body and shivers, driving off the tendrils. They close again over him like the tentacles of a jellyfish, ready to paralyze and ready to kill. Again the alien shakes. He tosses and turns and mumbles in his sleep. This time the tendrils do not slide off. The frost rears its head. It stabs! Suddenly he wakes with a gasp. Rolling over on to his back he sits up. Rubbing his arms and then breathing into his hands, plumes of steam rush through the cracks in his fingers, to warm them. He stumbles on to his feet and spits something out of his mouth. The years of bad drinking and even worse eating hits the ground with a wet smack. Grumbling, and still rubbing his arms, he wanders off down the alley and disappears around the bend.

The Jedi temple stands guard over the Senate building. The lights at its entrance a beacon for any of those who wish to get out of the cold air. The Jedi have always believed in caring for those that cannot care for themselves, tonight is no different. Already flocks of those people who have lost anywhere else to live have come to the temple. Some have even brought families with them. High above in the temple the wails of the hungry children can be heard. Sadly not all the wails will be treated to food. War has affected many parts of the Republic. Many people have been displaced. There is no longer food to spare lightly, all of it has come under rationing. In the hours before his rescue Palpatine had ordered several pods be sent to the farming worlds of Coruscant. When the people of the planets had investigated the pods they unleashed a plague hidden inside. Several worlds became to dangerously toxic for rescue to even be considered. Those that were accessible are now taking up a large amount of the Republics resources. Food production has come almost to a standstill. The Senate has advised the Chancellor to make food recovery a first priority. The recovery of civilians, they advise, should be secondary. No mention was made to the public when this would change.

So, having no choice, they had come to the Jedi to help them. No Jedi would turn away any person who seeked help. And so they had set up food stations inside the entrance to the grand hall. Every pillar was lined with people. Some of them could hardly stand on their feet. The warmth coming through the floor was like glass on their frozen feet. A few of the hungrier ones had collapsed on the floor, unable or unwilling to stand on feet that felt like they had been skinned. Some had even started crying when the Jedi handed them food. It would be a while before they could eat so well again. Some of the Jedi had even begun taking some off the smaller families into the inner parts of the temple, where they would be given a bed for the night and food for the day. Long lines of the people had formed. Each one twisted its way through the massed throng of people and ended at a food station. A hot bowl of something was proffered, a few words of hope, and the next person in the line moved past them. Every head in the line was bowed. None of them responded to the words of hope, save for a few that stuck the bowl back under the nose of the server, demanding more food for themselves. None got any more. There was not enough. Any that made trouble were ushered away from the station by the clone guards. Yelling and cursing they would be pushed gently out the door with a new cloak on their backs and the firm message to not return. The Jedi did not work through violence. Nor did the clones. But the greediness did not help anyone, and the cloak would keep the warm until their next meal. Maybe one or two would glance at the Jedi every minute before their eyes settled on the floor again. After they had got their food they would hurry off to a corner and either sit or stand as they ate. There were no chairs for anyone to sit on. All they had was the floor.

The cold could not get into the temple. The people inside were full of food and it would be too difficult to beat that. Instead it floated above the entrance and drifted up the face of the temple. Searching the building for a crack in its armour to invade, it passed by a window with a face in it. It was a young girls face. Maybe eleven, possibly twelve but short. She was peering out at the people who were still trying to get into the temple. Watching the stragglers on the edge of the light coalesce into a single body as the entrance and the cold drove them together. Their shadows flew out behind them in a great fan of darkness, which she followed with her eyes. Tilting her head, she took in the entire city in one glance. Though she had seen it many times before, it still made her pause. On a clear night like this you could see for miles in any direction. Pick any dark void and stare at it long enough and it begun to fill with light. Like staring into space for a million years, the longer you stared the more you could see. And right now she could see everything.

Every building became a galaxy. Every lamp became a whole another world to her. What reality showed was not what she saw. Where skyscrapers stood she saw stars. Red and yellow and blue and green and every other colour imaginable was represented in Coruscant's vast city. Her eyes flickering from left to right, she raised her hand and ran it down the window, wincing slightly at the cold feeling on her warm fingers. A huge sigh came from her lips, deflating her small chest, where the first small buds could be seen pressing against her nightie. "You must be somewhere out there," she said running her hand over the window once more. "You just have to be." A small sound came from over her shoulder and she spun around quickly. Kicking out with her thin but toned leg she felt herself being pulled off her bed. She grasped at the covers but could not resist the attackers strength. She was rolled onto the floor, where her nightie had gone past her knees. Trying quickly to get up, she was pushed down and felt a large pressure on her stomach. Pinned. She struggled wildly and clawed at whomever it was. She felt only an empty space. Panting, she tried to roll the pressure off her. But instead felt her arms pinned to her side. Unable to breathe or struggle she grunted, "Get off me! Leave me alone!" The pressure increased and suddenly she felt like screaming. Using the last of her air she focused on the object. Really focused and pushed her hand against it, sending the person flying off her. She leapt to her feet and took up a wide footed stance with her fists held at her side, she shouted, "Get up!" The figure rose and she prepared to spring. Sharp breaths hitched her chest up and down and her eyes narrowed on the shadowy figure. Just as she leapt, though, the light was thrown on. Blinded and dazed she shook her head and blinked a couple of times. Still confused, she felt hands grab her around the waist and throw her to the bed. Rolling on the bed and clenching her teeth, preparing for the worst. She opened her eyes to a tall attractive boy standing in the middle of her room wearing the most idiotic smile she had ever seen. Grinning he said in a voice that was just coasting on the borders of puberty, "Hello Alexi." She bared her teeth and growled,

"Hello Aidan." They stood facing each other. One wearing a ridiculous grin that was too big for his face, and the other scowling so deeply they were in danger of crushing their jaw. The moment was tense. She was kneeling on her bed, watching him as the grin spread even further across his face. He seemed like he would split open. Aidan spoke, laughing as he spoke. "I guess I got you then?" Alexi held his eyes in hers for a good minute, turning her head so she could examine every part of his face. She laughed, her scowl turning into a grin as she launched a pillow at him, which he deftly avoided. "Yeah," she said running to hug him. "I guess you did."


	7. World of Lights Pt 2

World of Lights Pt. 2

Alexi had been four when her parents had taken her to the Jedi temple. Placed against one of the pillars, she had been left alone until one of the Jedi had come to investigate the wailing. He had picked her up and hugged her to his chest. Softly speaking words she could not remember, she had fallen asleep, wrapped inside his robe, listening to the gentle beat of his heart.

From that point on she had cried a lot. Every meal was with strangers she had never met. There were people who would try and consol her, but she would always leave them behind, running to the one Jedi she trusted. Wrapping herself in his robes, she would tell him all that had happened to her that day. Sometimes she as coherent, but most of the time it came out with a stream of tears that threatened to drown the other Jedi. But he would take this all with grace. He would pick her up and place her down on the floor next to him. Then he would sit on the floor himself. Crossing his legs, he would tell her to do the same. She would look dumbly up into his kind face, a few run away tears still on her cheeks, and she would sit, her eyes shining. Suddenly, the windows would go dark, cutting the harsh glare out, and leaving them in a warm room that smelled of oak. She had been happy in those times. For hours they would sit there. He would meditate and she would watch happily and try to emulate his posture, giggling whenever he opened one eye to glance at her. Sometimes she would try and catch him looking, but he was good at hiding when he was looking. So when those times came she would sit quietly and watch him, measuring him and correcting her posture to be like his. One time she had even closed her eyes. Things seemed to calm down when she did that. She found herself doing it every time she was frightened or distressed. Running up to his room, knocking on the door and coming in when she felt it was right to. She would throw her bags down and sit on the floor, waiting for him to join her.

Five years go by and unsettling news is spreading across Coruscant. It seems peace with the Separatists is impossible. News of the war has yet to reach Alexi's ears, though.

One day she had gone up to his room and found he was not there. She had looked around for him, asking several people where he had gone, but no one had an answer for her. Angry, she had stormed into the Council chambers, ignoring all the strange looks she got from the Jedi she swept past. Running up the steps, taking two at a time, she had nearly collided into the back of a tall Jedi with very dark skin. He glanced around, looking at her face he nodded once and went back to his conversation, keeping a hand behind his back to stop her from speaking. "Geonosis," the dark Jedi said. He looked worried. "He's been captured on Geonosis. We must warn the Senate of what is to come. I will speak to Yoda about the possibility of using these new troops to help us. You must go and gather what Jedi you can and meet me and the hangar." The other Jedi nodded. Clasping his hands together in front of him, he hurried past, sparing only a small glance down at the girl before moving past her down the spiralling stairs. When he was gone, the other Jedi seemed to shrink and lines that weren't on his face before suddenly appeared. He looked old, and scared. He turned around, trailing his long robes around him, and looked down at the girl from his impossibly high position. He could not know it at the time, but he frightened her. "What do you want, child?" His eyes flicked over her small face, noting the anger in her eyes. "Are you looking for something?" Alexi stood there breathing hard. She had run quite a distance and the news she had heard had made something click in her mind, it did not help settle her fears about where her friend was. "I'm looking for someone, master," she pronounced master as marster. "I had hoped he might be here." A light of defiance entered her eyes. "I was thinking one of the council might have seen him. It is their job to govern the Jedi, isn't it?" Her friend had not been to kind on his descriptions of the Jedi council, though a few he had spoken kind words about. He had never mentioned this Jedi though, and she was starting to doubt if he was even important. He looked shocked at the thought, though he was quick to hide it behind an impassive mask, but even when it was impassive it still looked fierce. "You are looking for someone, am I to presume that I know who you mean? Tell me his name and I will tell you if I have seen him." He seemed to radiate aggression and Alexi was taken aback by his own anger. But she needed to know where her friend was. She would match this man anger with her own if she had to. "His name is Master Oram," she said, her anger flowing out her mouth."Judan Oram. I need to know where he is. I went to his room and he wasn't there. I have something important I need to speak to him privately about." The Jedi seemed to grow even taller and darker as the barbs in her voice hit him. His face grew into a storm of anger, his calm impassiveness lost in the torrent. But also there was a mote of sadness in the slump of his shoulders, a tinge of something painful that Alexi could not have read. "What did you need to talk to him about?" His anger was huge, but it was kept carefully checked. He was not inclined to violence. "And why are you just walking about the temple at this time? Don't you have lessons?" At the mention of lessons, Alexi wilted. The thought of all those people she still did not know sobered he anger. She felt drained and alone. All the fight went out of her, and she did not notice when the Jedi leaned down to talk to her. "What is your name?" He asked. His voice had lost any edge of anger. HIs worries for the future had been temporarily replaced with concern for this girl. "Alexi," she whispered. She could feel the tears hitching up inside her chest. She fought to keep them down, sniffling and wiping her eyes helped, but it could only be so long before she burst. "Alexi," the Jedi said, putting his hand on her shoulder and giving it a squeeze. "I know of Master Oram. Unfortunately, I do not know where he is-" Alexi felt the hitching come back, harder than before. "-but I know how we can find out." Alexi breathed hard, pushing the tears down into her stomach, where they settled like a stone. "Come with me, Alexi. We'll find your friend. I have some time before I leave."

"Thank you," she spoke quietly. She reached out for his hand, a little white flag, a truce. It was enveloped in his large black hands. "I didn't think anyone would be able to help." The Jedi laughed. And for the first time a younger man shone out from his dark face. "Alexi, if there is anyone in the galaxy that can help in a time of need, it is the Jedi." She smiled at his words. The stone dissolved and she felt her spirits lifted by the mysterious Jedi's presence. As they walked down the staircase, she realised something and stopped. The Jedi drifted to a stop a few stairs below her, putting them almost equal in eyesight. "What is wrong?" He asked calmly. Whatever it was, he would deal with it.

"I didn't ask you your name." His smile grew wider, and the glimmerings of very white teeth showed through his gums. "My name is Mace Windu."

"Thank you for helping me, Master Windu."

"Anytime."


	8. World of Lights Pt 3

A New Galaxy

World of Lights Part 3: Master Oram

Alexi and Mace walked side by side up the stairs of the communications tower. Alexi had taken Mace's hand into her own as they had walked up the stairs. She clung to it softly, not wanting to lose it and become separated from this Jedi, or appear to need it and seem weak to him. Mace, for his part, let his hang loosely around hers, wrapping her pale fingers in his dark ones. Occasionally he would feel a delicate tremble run through her hand and he would give it a light squeeze to calm her. Every time he did, she would flick her eyes up at him with a puzzled look on her face, as if she could not even feel the tremors that passed through her.

The walk up the stairs was a peaceful one, aided by the soft whisper of the rain as it brushed against the outside of the tower and the relative silence of his companion. She talked only a little of her lessons and the struggles she felt with the other students, preferring instead to talk of her absent friend. She talked of how Master Oram had sheltered her from her fears and given her comfort whenever she had needed it. She talked of his quiet ways and dry warmth that seemed to radiate from him as he spoke. Little stories of adventures with Master Oram as she had followed him around the temple seemed to be a favourite of hers, leaving her with a small smile and a forlorn look whenever they finished. She laughed when she mentioned his moustache. "Aidan said it looked like a Nexu in heat!" She laughed hard when she said this and grinned up at Mace with the expression of complete innocence. "He says a lot of stupid things."

"Indeed," Mace responded with a soft murmur. "Nine year olds often do." Alexi laughed again, harder than before. And this time Mace cracked a small smile on his dark face. "He's ten," Alexi said between laughs. "So he's doubly stupid!"

Alexi's laughter carried them up the stairs and to the threshold of the communications room, where she was quietened by Mace, who pulled her gently into the small space where the doorframe—For lack of a better word. It's more like a hole, or an arch. –met the wall and crouched down beside her to look her in the eye and put a finger to his lips. Alexi nodded stiffly and swallowed her laughter to the point where her stomach jutted out like a balloon. A light note of amusement passed through Mace's eyes at the sight, and he felt an uncharacteristic sense of affection burgeon in his chest for the young girl. "Try and keep silent if there are others in there, Alexi. Times are hard for people at the moment, and it would be good if we did not add to their burdens with our presence. Understood?" She nodded again, and Mace was pleased to see the girl had a core of seriousness in her. A rare thing in a nine year old, he thought with a hint of worry that he could not pin down, a rare thing indeed.

A light frown passed over his face like a shower in a desert when Alexi caught his gaze with her own flinty eyes. It was almost as if she had heard his thoughts. But it dried out as quickly as it had come, and he was left gazing at the smiling, slightly worried looking face of Alexi, who had gripped his hand tighter and bounced on the balls of her feet with a barely contained energy. Mace smiled back to assuage her worry, though his still sulked in the darker places of his mind. He lifted himself to his full height with a strong ease and gave her hand another little squeeze, which she returned with one of her own.

"Ready?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow at her obvious desire to go inside. She giggled at him, showing bright white teeth and a fine cut to her cheek bones, prophesising the attractive woman she would become. "Ready." She composed herself quickly, setting her face in a more serious mould that did well to hide her excitement, though Mace could still see a glint of it in her pale eyes and the slight lines that appeared on either side of her mouth.

"Then let's go inside."

As they passed through the doorway, a young Jedi with dark skin and tanned robes brushed past the pair with barely a glance, mumbling an incoherent apology as she hurried down the steps. She was carrying a datapad in one hand and a small rock in the other. The rock was a strange one. Speckled with purple shards and warm to the touch, it held her attention long enough for her to have taken three steps before she did a double take and walked briskly back towards the pair. "Mace!" she exclaimed hurriedly, fumbling with her items. She quickly toppled the rock onto the datapad and extended her hand, taking his free one in a strong calloused grip.

"Dolkin," Mace replied with a smile. "Good to see you."

"Good to see you too," she said with a wry smile, releasing his hand and placing her hand on her hip. "Last time I saw you, you were boarding a ship for a mission on Nar-Shadda. How did that go?" Mace shrugged. "Typical anti-gang stuff: lots of shooting, lots of fighting and nothing getting fixed in the long run." Dolkin winked at him and smiled again.

"Maybe you just didn't use enough of your charm. That always seemed to get you far." Mace smiled and snorted lightly.

"Maybe." Mace and Dolkin looked at each other for a while, neither willing to break the others gaze. Alexi glanced between the two Jedi, noting how the playful expression on Dolkin's face seemed to soften the normally placid one on Mace's. Both Jedi seemed to roam the others face, as if committing it to memory; returning to the eyes, only to search the faces again.

At last they seemed satisfied. Both of them settled into a more casual expression, with Dolkin leaning even more on her hip. She smiled sadly at Mace, noting how the lines in his face had become more pronounced since she last saw him.

Still handsome as ever, she thought to herself. Still the same man, just a little older and a lot more tired. She glanced at the smooth dome of his head and pursed her lips slightly. I'll bet you don't shave your head because you want to look older anymore. I bet you do it because if it grows, it's going to make you look venerable.

Mace nodded slowly, as if to confirm her suspicions, but then he produced a small child—a girl—from behind him. "Dolkin, this is Alexi." Dolkin blinked in surprise. She felt like someone had just jabbed her in the back with an electric prod. "She needs my help, and I have very little time before I have to leave." Dolkin blinked again, this time with an expression of deep puzzlement. She searched his face for some kind of hidden message, but she couldn't find any. Typical Mace, she thought angrily. Get anywhere close to the centre and he'll throw something up to block you. "You're leaving?" Was all she could think to say.

Stepping over the wires that still covered the floor of the recently repaired communications tower; the pair reached the terminal on the far end.

Mace offered Alexi a chair, pulling up another for himself before sitting down and switching on the machine with a wave of his hand.

Small, white dots appeared in the air infront of them, denoting various stars in the galaxy. Lines of blurry text flashed up to the side of the stars, which were then joined together by stark lines that shot out from star to star, tracing the various trade routes and political connections between each system. Alexi's face shone with interest as she tried to trace every path to its next destination, and on from there. But for every star she connected, the lines still went on, arching across the galaxy. Alexi's eyes widened as Mace pulled back the view point even further.

As he scrolled out further, the image grew to fill the whole room. Various star systems had been fused together and generified into a single symbol. But still it grew.

Alexi was stunned to see so many systems flying around her. She flicked her head back and forth and twisted in her chair, trying to see them all at once. Every flick of her head caught the light in her short blonde hair, sending dazzling specks of lights across the room.

She felt so happy to be in this room that she did not think her excitement could grow any more. But at the flick of Mace's hand, her excitement exploded.

The star systems shrunk until they were only pinpricks of light casting shadows around the room. The lines had become almost intangible sinews of thread strung between each system. A small red flag had popped up on one of the systems, catching Alexi's attention.

Mace chuckled softly as Alexi leapt from her seat with lithe grace and sprinted towards the marker.

Dodging between the cables, she came to a sudden stop at the red marker, which seemed to wink at her. She looked back at Mace with a querulous expression, to which he nodded. She smiled and turned to read the small marker, squinting as she did so.

Around her, in the vast expanse, the galaxy spun lazily, casting a soft blue hue on the room.

Star systems orbited around her head as she read the marker- some even passed through her before continuing on their way. She did not notice them for that brief moment; the intrigue of the marker drew all her attention away.

Mace had watched the little girl with interest, as she ran across the room towards the marker. It was rare for a student to be in this room, and he had always wondered how they would react when they saw the full extent of what they would have to fight for. He knew that some had cried and begged to be released, and that others had only stared grimly up at the galaxy before walking away to their dorms. They had been the ones who had gone on to be the best of the Jedi, taking the will and the compassion to create order in such a vast place. Mace hoped that Alexi would be one of those. Certainly she seemed to have the inner strength.

Alexi pondered on the marker for a few moments and then threw her head back and laughed for a long time. Mace watched quietly, a small flicker of pride crossing his face.

She will be one of the good ones, he thought.

Blinking in the mass of planets, stars, and nebula, the cheery red marker was inscribed with a simple message: you are here.


End file.
